


everyday blue blaze

by inlovewiththeirlove (fieldofdiabolicalbutlovelykillers)



Series: love on the road [1]
Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Angst, Introspection, M/M, Tour Fic, just some sad ramblings, not relationship focused
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-16
Updated: 2018-08-16
Packaged: 2019-06-28 04:21:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,039
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15700053
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fieldofdiabolicalbutlovelykillers/pseuds/inlovewiththeirlove
Summary: the grass isn't always green, or the road catches up to phil





	everyday blue blaze

Phil woke up because of the squark of a seagull at the window. Through barely open eyes he could see it perched on the balcony, making a ruckus. It was too loud for this hour. Phil didn’t know the time but it had to be early, or very late, for the white bird was shrouded in darkness. It looked too bright to be real. It cawed again, louder this time. 

He sighed. Phil looked over to Dan who was sprawled out on the second bed in the room, arms stretched out and drool escaping his mouth and making its way on the too-soft hotel pillows.

Phil wished for that, sound sleep regardless of noise, location or movement but no, he was stuck with this body, one that stirred awake at the tiniest of diversions from the norm. He got up, there was no use trying to get sleep now. Experience had told him, trying to sleep again would be futile.

Phil couldn’t tell what clock his body was following anymore, the tour was taxing and stomach growled. There was no gain in complaining however, and who’d he complain to? The fans who had made this possible, the people toiling away to make something memorable or Dan, who had been the happiest that Phil had ever seen him. 

Phil fixed up the bed, though he couldn’t quite achieve the hotel neatness that was present when they had checked in yesterday. He didn’t think the staff would mind, they had been carful to be neat guests, not leaving behind messes where they went. 

They had talked about it too, Dan had told him on the first night of the bus, that he wouldn’t be able to handle the bus for weeks again, if it was messy and Phil had smiled and promised to keep it organized. It was important, for Dan’s mental health and his own, a small space meant clutter piling up faster and that, without a doubt would raise stress levels in the both of them. 

It had been harder than Phil thought it’d be, he really did hate cleaning with a passion, but it was for Dan so he tried. He tried now too, picking up his jeans from last night and folding them, before placing in in his suitcase. He picked up Dan’s jumper from the ground too, and folded it. It had a faint smell of Dan’s cologne from last night and Phil smiled, that smell would always linger of home. 

After that, Phil checked his phone, 4:19 a.m.. He had gotten used to early mornings, on the bus, the world moving too much for him to rest. It had been two days of staying in this hotel, but he could not shake himself out of the haze that he was living in. 

Phil kept the jumper in Dan’s suitcase and grabbed the room key, he might as well get some fresh air whilst not sleeping. 

The hotel was dead quiet, almost as if regular people slept at 4 a.m.. Phil made his way down the hallway that frankly reminded Phil of the one from “The Shining”. A part of him wanted to share that, make a little joke on an Instagram story, it would be a good way to deal with the absolute terror he was experiencing because of one light that kept flickering at the end of the hallway. But, then, people would worry, Dan would too, what exactly was Phil doing at ungodly hours of the morning wandering around in hotel corridors.

Phil made his way downstairs and out to the parking lot. He was met with a blast of air that felt stale. The air was drier than yesterday, he had expected Vancouver to be similar to London, the rains and the mist that he always called home. God knows he needed it, some showers to remind him of what was waiting at the end of tour. 

Seattle was supposed to be like London too, but they were there for a day and their trip ended with some guy stealing a plane and taking it for a joyride. That guy probably didn’t have his life planned down to the minute. It was a sad situation, but Phil couldn’t help feeling envious of the freedom that guy must have been feeling. Phil tried to remember the last time he felt that way and came up blank.

There were fires according to the news, it changed the air, the city and despite walking through the beautiful areas of the city yesterday, Phil could feel it. It was hot, not in the way that the sun would hit Dan’s skin making it glow, but instead the heat that made Phil want to shut down and stay in a dark room alone. It was his vampiric tendency, one Phil wished he could indulge in today. 

Phil made his way across the parking lot to the sidewalk. Dried, burned grass lined the hotel. Phil knew Dan would probably take a photo of it and caption it something like #me, but he’d be kidding. Phil didn’t know what was worse, Dan giggling while posting a self-deprecating joke or Phil feeling like the burned grass. 

Phil sat down in the grass, gazing around. The sun was coming out now and across the street he saw another man, come out and light a cigarette. Phil wished he had one now, not to smoke, his mother would kill him for that, but to have an excuse to be here, to do something with his hands.

He sat in the grass and watched the world turn brighter. He went over his schedule for the day in his head again and groaned. It wasn’t actually work, sightseeing and then Dan had said something about a baseball game, he wished he could sleep instead. But that would make Dan worry. 

Phil couldn’t see Dan like that, stressed, worried, scared he had already spent too many days of their relationship seeing worry lines ruining the surface of Dan’s face. 

So Phil sat in burned grass, breathing in the smoky air, wishing for something familiar. He was tired of newness, the novelty had worn off and Phil, more than anything wished for home.

**Author's Note:**

> reblog on tumblr is you like being sad:[x](https://manialester.tumblr.com/post/177049129616/everyday-blue-blaze)


End file.
